Who shuts, who opens, when and how?
I have been harbouring this burden in my spirit for some time now. It’s a familiar pressure—one that begins faintly, then grows heavier as I wait on the Lord for His timing and direction. It is not a comfortable place to be—knowing that change is coming, yet not knowing when or how. As one grows older, it is tempting to flirt with the justification of “earned” inertia. But I have learned how imperative it is not to quench the Spirit through apathy or disobedience—not if I truly love and fear God, and desire to walk in His perfect will.
The end result may be misunderstanding, vilification, criticism, mockery, or even a dent in one’s reputation. But if our lives are truly not our own, then none of that should matter. Only the will of the Lord must be our consideration.
This was made starkly vivid to me two nights ago as I was strolling under a waning moon. Suddenly, I sensed the Lord clearly chide me:
“If you do not shut the door firmly behind you, you cannot enter the door I am waiting to open before you.”
With a sharp intake of breath, I paused on the pavement, listening for more.
“You will have a short shut-down period before you step over the threshold of the next open door, because I need you to divest from the old before you can invest in the new.”
As I absorbed this exhortation, my mind began to race.
Shut doors—me?
Open doors—God?
Wasn’t God entirely in charge of both?
“What He opens, no one can shut; and what He shuts, no one can open.” (Rev 3:7)
And in Isaiah 45:1, God promised Cyrus the Great that He would open doors before him so that gates would not be shut.
So why was He asking me to shut a door? And which door would that be?
Ok…I had an inkling as to which one. But when? Now?
As I walked, I continued the conversation in my spirit. I was aware of how often I have complained of boredom and frustration with the monotony of “same old, same old” in church life. But was I truly ready to exchange boredom for uncertainty at my stage of life?
Everything is moving along so smoothly at present. Love is covering all things- which is a miracle in itself where I’m concerned. Breakthroughs are happening regularly. Prayers are being answered graciously. After the upheavals of the past year, this feels like such a good and settled season.
And then it struck me!
It was precisely because of all these justifications that God will not shut that door for me.
He won’t ever violate the free will He has given me.
If I am not wholeheartedly willing to leave the familiar and comfortable behind in order to follow Him into the unknown, then how can I be of any real use to my Master?
“No one who puts his hand to the plow and looks back is fit for the kingdom of God.” (Luke 9:62)
Looking back disqualifies us from forward movement. Refusing to move forward stagnates us.
God is neither stale nor stagnant.
He is always moving—creating, renewing, doing a new thing.
He is making new wine and new wineskins.
He is birthing new hearts and new spirits.
He is pouring out new mercies every morning.
He is making streams in the desert and paths in the wilderness for the expansion of His kingdom.
So then, what gives us the right to cower at the call of a new season? And what makes us think we are so indispensable that we would rather be stuck in a position we should have vacated a long time ago?
God can raise stones to praise Him and use donkeys to prophesy. Why then do we convince ourselves that our safe, controlled, and often impotent religiosity can ever host His glory?
So the doors before us are not the problem.
The doors behind us are.
Some doors God will open sovereignly.
But some doors, He will wait for us to shut in obedience.
And until we do, we will stand in the hallway—delayed not by His will, but by our hesitation.
The question is not whether God is ready to open the next door. The question is—are we ready to shut the last one?
Lord, please help me to be ready and willing to obey You always. Help me shut whichever door You ask me to. And help me walk through the doors You open with joy and gratitude. Amen.
